


Touching Minds, Touching Souls

by lamujerarana



Category: Fantastic Four, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 16:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamujerarana/pseuds/lamujerarana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Johnny accidentally become telepathically linked, forcing them to confront their feelings for each other.</p><p>******************************<br/>"You two with the ability to communicate telepathically. So no one else can hear." The thought seemed to make him feel slightly ill. "You know what? You two are absolutely correct. I should look into fixing this immediately."</p><p>"What brought this change of heart about, Reed? Afraid we'll use our newfound powers for evil?" Johnny joked.</p><p>"No," Reed answered grimly. "I'm afraid you'll use them for playing pranks."</p><p>Peter and Johnny burst into raucous laughter. "We so would do that!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Touching Minds

Johnny groaned as he returned slowly, arduously to consciousness. And soon wished he hadn't. His body ached, throbbing painfully nearly everywhere. Especially his head. 

How had he gotten here? He lay still, eyes shut tight, and tried to focus his mind enough to remember, but it was a bit difficult, which was worrying. He remembered...something about a fight against a deranged scientist who called himself....the Inventor? Yes, the Inventor. 

Some things were starting to come back to him, at least. 

The guy had been, well, crazy, even for a bad guy. He was...dead set on world domination. Or maybe just conquering New York. Johnny decided he couldn't remember that last point, not because he was physically incapable of remembering, but because he hadn't actually paid much attention to the man's crazed ranting. It was just so...boring? Predictable? And ultimately irrelevant, since he was gonna kick the guy's ass anyhow. 

Then...yeah! He'd chased the Inventor back to his...lab, which is where he was now, he assumed? And then...in the fight, he'd...done something. There was a blast of blue light! Because he'd accidentally engulfed one of the Inventor's machines in his flames. 

Well, maybe not so accidentally. The guy had pissed him off. Destroying his precious inventions was just kinda fun after that. Having a scientist for a brother-in-law and another for a best friend meant that Johnny knew all too well precisely how important these inventions were to those who created them. They represented hours if not days of toil and thought and dreams. So destroying the Inventor's was, yeah, pretty sadistic of him. _But the guy had pissed him off._

Not that he could really, at the moment, remember _why._ That was just one of the annoying blanks in his short-term memory.

And then, after the blue light...nothing. Knocked unconscious, apparently.

How long had he _been_ unconscious, was the real question.

He forced himself to open his eyes, which took a great deal of willpower, blinking rapidly as the far-too-bright neon lights of the lab flooded his vision. He smelled smoke. He was definitely still kind of out of it, but he knew he needed to get up. Couldn't remember why, but...there was something important...something he needed to do. Something he was forgetting.

He decided to try to sit, at least, before attempting to rise to his feet. He sat up tentatively, glad that he'd not decided to rush it when he felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness as the blood rushed from his head. He felt a sharp pain in his hands, which he was using to hold himself up, and realized he was surrounded by shards of broken glass and twisted, blackened metal. 

Parts of the lab were on fire, not that he found fire very worrying. But it'd made the very loud alarms begin ringing, which didn't exactly help his headache. He ran his hand gingerly against the back of his head. There was no blood, but he should have it checked. Sigh. He'd have to have that taken care of when he got back to the Baxter Building. And Sue would be mother-henning him for days. He just hoped he didn't have a concussion.

His eyes scanned the wreckage of what had once been a sleek and shining lab. Not that you'd know that now. The place was a mess. The inventions were mostly piles of metal and broken gadgetry. 

Johnny turned to his left and spotted a red boot wedged beneath some chunks of metal. Oh god. That's what he'd forgotten, he realized, feeling an overwhelming surge of panic. _Peter._ Peter'd been fighting alongside him, he now recalled. 

Jesus. How hard had he hit his head, if he couldn't even remember that?

God. He had to check to make sure Peter was okay. "Please be alive," he whispered under his breath as he rose slowly, his body protesting vehemently against every movement, and walked over to Peter as quickly as he could.

With a great deal of effort, he managed to move away all of the debris. He knelt awkwardly next to Peter, who was worryingly, uncharacteristically still. He checked Peter's wrist to make sure he had a pulse, and sure enough he did. Johnny let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in. Peter was alive, at least, but seemingly still unconscious. 

"Peter," Johnny said, slapping his face lightly. "Time to wake up."

Peter groaned unhappily as he came to. "Johnny? What the hell happened?"

"Not sure. I accidentally"--he wasn't exactly going to admit to Peter that this was all the fault of his own stupid temper, now was he?--"hit something when we were fighting and it exploded. No clue what it was. It was over there." Johnny turned away from Peter and pointed vaguely over to a corner that still blazed with uncontained fires. 

Peter only half heard him. His head felt so odd. Something was definitely off about it. He couldn't quite put his finger on what. He didn't really feel any pain, which was shocking, given that he'd been unconscious a few moments ago, but there was something different about it.

"There was blue light. You were pissed. He shot me with something. I was screaming. You tried to keep the metal from hitting me. Didn't work," he mumbled distractedly.

 _Oh yeah!_ Johnny thought. _That's why I got so pissed and blew up that damn machine. The guy hurt Peter._

_Big mistake._

Johnny was growing increasingly worried about Peter. He was talking in a way that was frighteningly disjointed and hazy. Like he wasn't doing too well. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than Johnny thought. Or maybe that ray he'd been hit with messed up his head but good. Either way? Johnny wasn't happy right now. In fact, he was far from it. 

That was the thing about Johnny. He could be childish and immature, but when push came to shove, he never turned his back on the people he loved. On his family, or his friends. He was loyal to a fault. 

And Peter? Well, Peter was his _best_ friend. He adored the guy. So now that he could see Peter was...well, not being his normal annoying self, he reacted without thinking. He simply reached out and placed his hand gently on Peter's shoulder, not even bothering to hide his concern. He really didn't like it when Peter got hurt. It...scared him. Not that he'd ever admit that to Peter.

But now he could feel the same terror that he always felt when Peter was injured winding its way through his gut, and he just couldn't hide it. "You okay?" he asked gently. "You don't sound so good." 

Peter put his finger, finally, on what was different. His eyes widened in alarm. Oh god. He could feel, at the edges of his consciousness, Johnny's mind brushing against his. He could feel his touching anxiety over Peter's health, and knew, because he could feel it, so very, very vividly, the exact degree of pain Johnny was in because of the small aches and pains he was valiantly striving to ignore for Peter's sake.

_He could hear what Johnny was thinking and feeling._

This was so very far outside of the realm of okay that it wasn't even funny. 

He didn't think he was generally telepathic, or he'd be hearing other people's thoughts right now too, and all he heard was Johnny. No, he somehow instinctually knew that it was Johnny's mind, and Johnny's only, that he had new and very unwanted access to. 

What the hell _was_ that machine?

Oh god. A terrible thought suddenly occurred to him. _What if the link went both ways?_

His head shot up as he glanced over at Johnny, who was still kneeling next to him, with a great deal of trepidation. Johnny was staring at him with an expression of mixed bewilderment and annoyance. 

"Yeah," Johnny confirmed, clearly as profoundly unhappy with the whole situation as Peter was. "I can feel your brain ticking away in my head, Peter. _This is so weird._ " He hid his face in his hands. "I don't--um--I don't think I like this. I mean, you're my friend and all, Peter, but I just..."

"Don't want unlimited 24/7 access to what goes on inside my head? Can't blame you there, Storm." 

Johnny looked stricken at Peter's description of their predicament. "We need to fix this. Like now."

"We should talk to Reed. Scientific genius and all. Maybe he can figure out what happened to us."

"Genius plan. Knew there was a reason I kept you around, Spidey."

Peter could feel warmth, affection, and some relief radiating from Johnny. Huh. Turns out Johnny genuinely was fond of him, then. Sometimes Peter was afraid Johnny was just humoring him.

"Holy fuck, Peter! You did not seriously think that I was, what, faking my friendship with you! We've been best friends for _years_."

"I know that. I just sometimes am..." He trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence.

"A very insecure person? And frustrating as hell?"

"See why I don't have many friends?"

Johnny face-palmed out of exasperation. "You are--you just--you drive me crazy, you know that? Do you really not know how great you are?"

Holy shit. He really meant that.

"Yes, I really meant that! Oh my god, Peter, is this what it's always like inside your head? Because it's already driving me crazy, and I've only been listening for like five minutes. This explains so much," he said, muttering the last part under his breath as though he were saying it to himself.

"Kind of, yeah, I guess," Peter answered sheepishly. "I have the king of all inferiority complexes. Self-loathing coming out of my ears. My mind is a dark and unhappy place. So really, you should try to listen as little as possible."

"I would if I knew how," Johnny grumbled, "but you think so _loudly_ , Peter. Can't you...mentally whisper, or something?"

"How the hell do you mentally whisper?"

"I don't know!" Johnny protested, throwing his hands up in frustration. " _You're_ the genius, _you_ figure it out!"

Peter rolled his eyes at Johnny behind his mask. Which Johnny couldn't see, but could sense he was doing. 

Johnny stared at him. "I don't believe you. I knew it! I knew it! You _do _roll your eyes at me when you're wearing your mask."__

"I roll my eyes at you when I'm _not_ wearing a mask. Everyone who's spent more than five minutes around you rolls their eyes at you. You just have that sort of personality."

Johnny's mouth dropped open in mock outrage. "Traitor! And what exactly do you mean by "that sort of personality"? Is there something wrong with my personality?" he asked indignantly.

"Oh, so much, Johnny. I could write you a list, but you'd have to give me a few weeks. It'd probably be about the length of _War and Peace_ ," Peter replied teasingly. 

Off Johnny's confused look, Peter amended the last part to, "Um, a really, _really_ long book?" 

"I'm not _that_ bad, Parker, and you know it. If I was, why would you put up with me?"

"You play video games with me."

"Ooo. Didn't think you were so shallow, Webhead."

The corner of Johnny's mouth ticked upwards slightly. He could tell, after years of practice and observation, that Peter was grinning under his mask. He really didn't mind letting Peter mock him if it meant it jolted Peter out of the worrying funk he'd been in the last few weeks. Besides, he liked bantering with Peter.

"Thanks. I appreciate you cheering me up with your terrible personality." He frowned. "...do you always do nice things like that for me without telling me?"

Johnny winced. Busted. "Oh. Um, sometimes, come to think of it."

Lie. He did it all the time. He just felt weirdly overprotective of Peter. And liked seeing him happy.

"Oh my god. You do it like all the time. You feel like you need to protect me? Why the hell do you feel that? I'm a superhero, Johnny. I can take care of myself."

Peter wasn't quite sure whether to feel indignant or very, very flattered by Johnny's secret overprotectiveness.

"Not always," Johnny said, remembering in painful detail all of the times that had not been true, with the accompanying stab of pain and sadness he got whenever he thought about Peter being injured. Peter might seem like an invulnerable superhero to everyone else, but Johnny had seen the physical and mental toll it took on him firsthand. He'd held him in his arms as he cried over a child he'd failed to save, he'd watched, distraught, as Peter whimpered because of nightmares Johnny couldn't keep at bay, he'd shut his eyes in a futile attempt to keep at bay the nausea he always felt at seeing Peter nursing the wounds he invariably accumulated as Spider-Man. 

Peter was more fragile than anyone knew, and Johnny would do whatever it took to keep him safe and happy.

"You get really worried when I get hurt, don't you? Why didn't you ever tell me?" Okay, now Peter's heart was melting. Just a little.

"Would it have made you stop," Johnny asked, with a slightly mournful look on his face, "or even be more careful?"

"No."

"Well, there's your answer."

Peter stared at him silently. He was seeing a whole new, very...interesting side of Johnny thanks to their psychic link.

"Well, I'm seeing a whole new side of you too, and it is _not_ as flattering, believe me."

"Okay, it's just weird to have you interrupting my chain of thought like that."

"Yeah, I know. We should go find Reed." 

Johnny rose swiftly and offered Peter his hand.

"Yes," Peter said, grabbing Johnny's hand and standing up with his help. "We should."

************************************

They found Reed sitting in his lab, working on one of his very important, top secret projects. But he dropped what he was doing the moment he saw the looks on their faces, the state of Johnny's slightly bloody hands, Peter twisting his mask agitatedly in his hands.

"What's going on, you two?" he asked, concern evident on his face. "Something wrong? Johnny, you should have your hands looked at," he added in his most authoritative voice.

"Just some tiny cuts, Reed. It's not a big deal. Our heads, now that's a big deal."

Reed frowned, confused. "Your heads appear to be fine, Johnny. What's the matter with them?"

"Oh, nothing," Johnny remarked sarcastically. "I just seem to have a bad case of Spidey-on-the-brain."

Reed stared at them blankly, not understanding. "What?"

"What Johnny is trying to say," Peter clarified, shooting Johnny an exasperated look that was tinged, nonetheless, with a great deal of fondness, "in typical Johnny fashion, is that he and I seem to be...telepathically linked. I can hear what he's thinking, Reed. _Make it stop._ "

Johnny nodded enthusiastically, arms folded, leaning casually back on one of Reed's lab tables. "Yes! I agree. You should make it stop."

"You're...telepathically linked?" Reed said, covering up his mouth to hide a smile and struggling not to laugh. "That's, um, terrible. How did--how exactly did this happen?"

From their irritated, high-speed responses, Reed was able to gather that there'd been a supervillain scientist, a lab, an explosion, and they'd just woken up like this and now wanted it to stop.

The urge to laugh was growing stronger. Only Johnny and Peter could get themselves into this sort of scrape. It was remarkable, really, how often these sorts of truly absurd accidents seemed to befall them. 

"Have you told Sue and Ben about this? I feel that it's important for them to be aware of this. For purposes of team safety," Reed asserted, sense of amusement having dissipated not even slightly.

"Oh, shut up, Reed!" Johnny snarled, patience wearing thin. "You just think this is funny, for some bizarre reason, because it so isn't, and want to give them the chance to laugh at us too."

Peter gasped, and clapped his hands to his mouth, pretending to be shocked. "Why, Reed Richards, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd mysteriously developed a sense of humor. Maybe you're the one who needs to have his head examined. Either that or the real you has been abducted and replaced with a duplicate with a sense of humor. Which can happen, you know."

"No, I really think they need to hear about this," Reed replied, undeterred. "It could legitimately affect team performance."

Peter reached out and touched Johnny's mind. _He's totally still messing with us, right?_ he asked Johnny telepathically.

Johnny shrugged. _I don't know. Maybe like half messing, half serious._

Peter turned to Reed. "Could you maybe see if you can fix us first and then we can tell them if you can't?"

"I suppose, if I must." He squinted curiously at them. "Were you two communicating telepathically just now?"

"Well...yeah," Peter answered guiltily. "I mean we _can_ have super secret mental conversations now. Seems a waste to not."

"You two with the ability to communicate telepathically. So no one else can hear." The thought seemed to make him feel slightly ill. "You know what? You two are absolutely correct. I should look into fixing this immediately."

"What brought this change of heart about, Reed? Afraid we'll use our newfound powers for evil?" Johnny joked.

"No," Reed answered grimly. "I'm afraid you'll use them for playing pranks."

Peter and Johnny burst into raucous laughter. "We _so_ would do that!"

****************************

Several hours and several tests later, Reed turned to them and said, gravely, "Boys. After looking at all of these test results...I'm just not sure what I can do. I'll consult with more experts, but I don't want to give you any false hope."

Peter and Johnny looked at each other, horror-struck. The idea that Reed Richards, one of the most brilliant people on the planet, couldn't help them hadn't really crossed their minds. They had both been certain that he'd find something and have them back to normal by the end of the day. "Um, what do--what do you mean, Reed?" Peter asked, sounding terrified.

"You have to fix us, Reed!" Johnny said plaintively. "I can't have Peter in my head all the time! I'll go insane! No offense, Peter."

"None taken, Johnny. I feel the same way about you. I love you, you're my best friend, but I don't want you in my head all the time."

"You love me?" Johnny gasped in mock surprise, clapping his hands over his heart melodramatically. "Did you just say you loved me? Reed, did you just hear what I heard? Why, Peter, I had no idea you felt that way about me!"

"I mean, in a totally straight, you're-my-friend kind of way," Peter corrected, perhaps a bit too quickly, a bit too nervously. Johnny, as always, didn't notice.

"Really?" Johnny teased, expecting Peter to join in. "'Cause I think it's in a totally gay, marry-me-and-have-my-babies kind of way."

And then things got awkward. Peter, uncharacteristically, had no answering retort. He whirled around quickly and nervously began examining one of Reed's inventions. Although his back was turned, Johnny could see that his shoulders were tense. There was a slight sense of panic emanating from him, and Johnny could feel an odd flicker of something else from Peter, but he couldn't figure out what it was. It felt almost...wistful? Sad? Longing? 

What the hell? Strange. He'd be sure to quiz Peter about it later, the second he got him alone. 

"...right," he said, deciding that, at the moment, it was best to change the subject as quickly as possible. "Well, Reed, why can't you do anything?"

Reed had been watching them with a knowing smirk on his face, one that he quickly tried to hide when Johnny turned his attention back to him. 

"I'm afraid that this machine, whatever it was, seems to have fundamentally altered the way your brains work. I don't know if I can return them to what they were. The link is now an integral part of your brain's basic mental processes. And the brain is an infinitely complex, delicate instrument. I would hesitate to tamper with it. I think the best we can do is contact Xavier and hope he can teach you both to control your powers."

"But we don't want to control it. We want it gone."

"And I'm telling you I'm not sure I can make that happen."

"Can you at least try?"

"I suppose. But I believe that it would, ultimately, prove futile."

Johnny groaned and covered his face with his hands. "This is maybe the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"Gee, Storm, I'm flattered," Peter deadpanned, having turned to face Reed during his explanation, listening with his lips pursed and a bitter, disappointed look on his face.

Johnny looked at Peter through the fingers that were splayed over his face. "Oh, come on. You know you feel the same way. Do you really want me knowing everything you think about everything all the time? Listening in on your dreams? And oh god, what if one of us--and let's get real, it'll probably be me--starts _dating_ someone? That could get really awkward really fast."

Johnny could feel Peter grow suddenly tense again and perhaps even a bit panicked. _OH. MY. GOD,_ he could hear Peter thinking, _What am I going to do if he finds out about..._

He cut himself off when he realized that Johnny had taken his hands away from his face and was staring at him with a curious expression on his face. "You just heard everything I was thinking, didn't you?"

Johnny nodded silently.

"And you are now plotting how to make me tell you whatever it is I don't want to tell you."

"See, this is why I like you," Johnny said, throwing an arm over Peter's shoulders and squeezing them roughly. "You're smart, and you know me so well."

Determined to finish up their business as rapidly as he could and get Peter alone somewhere so he could begin interrogating him, he turned to Reed and said, "Reed, will you at least spend some time looking into how to cure us?"

Reed sighed. "Of course, Johnny. I just don't want you--either of you--to get your hopes up. This likely will not be something I can fix."

"That's--that's fine, Reed," Johnny answered, rubbing his eyes wearily. "As long as we know we did everything we could."

"Yeah, and seriously, Reed, thank you so much," Peter added, glaring at Johnny pointedly.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks for everything." Johnny shot Peter a look. _There. I thanked him. Satisfied?_

_Maybe when you learn some manners, Storm._

_You love me the way I am and you know it._

Peter, for some reason, instantly began reciting pi in his head. Johnny stared at him, baffled. What the actual hell? Peter was being _so weird_. Johnny didn't know what it meant, but he was certain that he didn't like it. 

They left the lab in uncomfortable silence, nodding at Reed as they left. The moment the door shut, Johnny turned to Peter and said, "You and I have to talk."

Peter sighed in frustration. "I figured this was coming."

"Yeah, I know you did. Come on. Let's go talk in my room. No one will bother us there."

Peter nodded wordlessly. He knew Johnny was going to ask him about the secret he was keeping. This was not a conversation he was looking forward to, mostly because he had no intention of telling Johnny unless it proved absolutely necessary. And he really hoped that didn't happen.

****************************** 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Johnny and Peter have an argument over Peter's secret-keeping. There are lots of emotions and angstiness and eventually kisses.


	2. Touching Souls

They walked quietly into Johnny's room, neither one saying a word. 

"Sit," Johnny ordered, pointing to the unmade, messy bed.

Peter obeyed, sitting tentatively on the edge of the bed, looking like a skittish wild animal ready to run off at the slightest provocation. He was staring down at his hands fixedly, very deliberately avoiding Johnny's gaze.

Johnny stood not too far away from the bed and glared down at him judgmentally, arms crossed. 

Johnny could feel how tense and anxious Peter was. And again, he felt Peter fighting off an inexplicable sense of panic. Peter was... _terrified_ that he'd find out this secret. That much was obvious. Johnny wouldn't have needed telepathy to know it, either. Peter's body language, which, after so many years, Johnny could read with practiced ease, all but screamed it. 

Whatever this was, Peter _really_ didn't want Johnny to know. And that meant Johnny _had_ to know.

"No, Johnny, you don't," Peter interrupted, hands curling frustratedly into fists where they were resting on his knees. "Why can't you just leave this alone? Just trust me, and believe me when I say you really don't want to know this. It isn't like it's that important anyhow."

"I will not leave this alone!" Johnny roared, fists clenched, sounding outraged, hurt, betrayed. "You're keeping secrets from me, Peter! You! My best friend! Do you have any idea how much it hurts me to think that you're keeping secrets from me? That there are things in your life that you think you can't to talk to me about?" He stopped abruptly, seeming to just deflate. He stared at Peter sadly for a few moments before adding mournfully, voice suddenly small and wounded, "I'm your _best friend_. Or at least, I _thought_ I was. You should--you should be able to talk to me about whatever this is. Or I'm not much of a best friend."

"You're a great best friend!" Peter protested. "And I do feel like I can talk to you about anything! And I do! This is just one thing, _just one thing_ , that I can't."

"Why not?!" Johnny shouted, frustrated. "What is it that's so bad that you think you can't tell me?"

"It's not that! It's just...if I told you, things would never be the same between us again! I don't want that to happen! I like the way things are!"

"I thought it wasn't actually that important," Johnny countered, throwing Peter's words back at him. "This sounds pretty important. Peter, if you don't tell me, things are never really going to be the same between us anyhow. So you might as well."

Peter didn't respond. He knew that Johnny was right, but he couldn't bring himself to tell him. He stared dejectedly down at the mask he was grasping too tightly. 

Johnny sighed, sensing Peter's fear and reluctance and utter terror, and took pity on him. He never could bear to see Peter upset. He sat next to him on the bed, and put his left arm comfortingly around his shoulders. "No matter what this is, you're not gonna lose me, you know. We've been through too much together. I care about you too much." He moved his free hand to gently tilt Peter's face so he could look directly into his eyes. "Hey, you really are my best friend. Don't know what I'd do without you. What I'd be if I'd never met you. I wouldn't be much of a hero, I know that much. You're the one who taught me what it means to really be a hero, the responsibility and self-sacrifice that comes with it. You're so _good_ , Peter. Brave, noble, selfless. I know you don't see yourself that way, and it frustrates me. I wish you could see yourself the way I do." 

He hadn't removed his hand from Peter's face, and was affectionately stroking his thumb softly over Peter's cheek, their faces only inches apart. It was the sort of surprisingly intimate gesture they normally avoided, but Johnny thought Peter needed it just now. He tried to project warmth and friendship at Peter, who was gazing at Johnny sorrowfully, something inscrutable hidden behind his eyes.

Johnny could feel the same sense of bewildering longing and sadness he'd felt from Peter earlier in the lab, but it was laced with something he couldn't quite place. Johnny couldn't understand why Peter would be feeling any of that. What the hell was he longing for? Why the hell would looking at Johnny make him sad?

He thought back to their conversation in the lab that had first sparked the feeling in Peter. And went back over their conversation of the last few moments. Oh. Oh. His eyes widened in shock. He suddenly realized what Peter's secret was. And what that third emotion was. What was hidden behind Peter's eyes.

_Desire._

Peter, of course, knew the moment he figured it out. He stiffened as his eyes widened in anger and he wrenched his face back and stood up, moving away from the bed and Johnny.

"Yeah. So now you know my pathetic little secret. I'm hopelessly in love with you. My very straight best friend. Happy?" he asked bitterly.

Johnny was...shocked. He'd never noticed, never even suspected Peter felt this way. But in retrospect, it made so many things make sense. So many tiny little moments, so many wistful, half-spoken comments over the years that had seemed unimportant at the time suddenly took on a much deeper significance. 

Peter was in love with him. Holy shit. Peter was right. Knowing this did change everything. He was having trouble wrapping his mind around the concept. It had just never even occurred to him as a possibility. 

_Peter was in love with him._ He didn't know how he felt about that.

But the real question now, he supposed, which he found himself at a loss to answer, was whether he felt the same way about Peter. It was so sudden. He just didn't know.

"If you don't," Peter said quietly, in a forlorn tone of voice that all but broke Johnny's heart, "it's okay. I know you only like girls. I really wasn't expecting this to turn out well for me. Nothing ever does, really. My relationships always end tragically. This is just me one-upping myself by having a relationship that's a disaster before it even starts. 

"And I'm sorry I feel this way about you. I can't--I just can't help it. I actually don't normally like guys--you're the first I've ever even been attracted to, so I don't really know how it happened. Believe me, I freaked out a lot--for _days_ \--when I realized how I felt about you." 

Now that Johnny knew the truth, Peter couldn't stop himself from saying some of the things he'd always wanted to say to him. The words just came pouring out. "And I've tried to stop feeling this way, or to convince myself I didn't feel what I feel for you. But none of it took. The minute I'd see you again, and you'd smile at me...I would just realize that I couldn't ever stop. And that I didn't really want to. It hurts like hell to love someone who doesn't love you back, but just...it's worth it. All of the pain and heartache, it's worth it for those moments when everything's perfect. For those moments when you look at me...and it's like everything just stops and you're all there is. Me and you, and the way I feel about you. Everything else fades away. I've never felt that with anyone else before. 

"But I swear, you never--if this hadn't happened, I never would have said anything. This isn't your burden to bear." He stopped before adding quietly, "It does feel kind of good to finally tell you, though, and not have to hide how I feel."

Johnny stared at Peter silently, touched and a bit surprised at the depth of Peter's love for him. "Peter...wow. I'm glad I know. I don't think anyone's ever felt that way about me before. Most people get sick of me when they get to know me too well, but you, you know everything there is to know about me, and you still feel that way?"

Peter frowned, confused. The idea that it was possible to not find Johnny incredible seemed entirely incomprehensible to him. "Yeah, why wouldn't I? You're amazing."

Johnny stared wistfully at him for a few moments. "I just don't know if I feel the same way about you. I've never thought about you like that before. Never even considered it. 

Peter nodded sadly, his mouth twisted in sorrow. "I know, Johnny, I know. I mean, even if you liked guys, why would you ever give me a second glance? You're...you. You could have anyone you wanted. You're incredible. Beloved. Popular. Handsome. And I'm none of those things. So like I said, I really don't expect anything from you."

Peter was so infuriating when he was this harsh with himself. He didn't know himself at all, if he believed any of those things were true. Johnny longed to shake some sense into him some days. 

Well, he guessed he could at least maybe _shock_ some sense into him today. Literally trying to shake someone with Spidey sense, who you were also telepathically linked with, probably wouldn't go so well. 

Johnny crossed his arms and said, annoyed, "You didn't let me finish. I was going to say that I would be willing to find out whether I felt the same way about you."

Peter glanced up, surprised, a small flicker of hope passing over his face. "What...what do you mean?"

Johnny shrugged and locked eyes with Peter. "I mean I think you should kiss me, Peter. It's the easiest way to find out if I'm attracted to you."

Peter's face suddenly grew still and weary, as the hope was extinguished by his own lingering doubts. "You're just doing this out of pity. Poor pathetic Peter, pining away for someone he can never have."

He suddenly looked so small, and tired, and defeated. Goddamn. It was like he was trying to break Johnny's heart. And it gave Johnny some idea of what the last few years must have been like for Peter. The constant longing and heartache he must have experienced. The thought of it made Johnny feel...miserable. 

Peter was his best friend. It was his job to keep him happy, not cause him pain. Well, maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to make it up to him. He found himself hoping that he did love Peter back. 

Well, he did _love_ Peter, he knew that much. He just didn't know if he was _in_ love with him.

"No," Johnny replied firmly. "I'm doing this because I'm hoping I do feel the same way about you. I already feel pretty intensely about you. I just don't know if my feelings are the sexy kind too. And because I think we'd be an awesome couple, and would make each other really happy. And I think we both need that." He leaned forward and looked directly into Peter's eyes, trying to communicate precisely how serious he was, before adding pointedly, "And I know you deserve it, even if you don't think so."

Peter could feel he was telling the truth. Which was...he didn't really know how to process it. Had he somehow wandered into one of his dreams? He was a superhero--stuff like that happened. Bit vivid, if it was. "You really want me to kiss you?" he asked incredulously.

"To be specific," Johnny answered, "I want you to kiss me like there's no tomorrow. This has to be one hell of a kiss, Peter. There's a lot riding on it, you know, like our potential future happiness. And maybe even our future children. You wouldn't want to disappoint the Storm-Parkers, would you?"

Peter tilted his head in confusion. Johnny was being facetious, Peter knew, but he was also partly serious.

"You're serious," he said, not quite able to wrap his head around the fact that his best friend was actually asking him to kiss him. Which he'd been dreaming about doing for years. It couldn't be true, despite what their telepathic link was telling him. Thank god for that. Otherwise, he'd've assumed Johnny was just teasing him and stormed out of the room in a towering fury. But he knew, because he could feel it, that Johnny legitimately did want Peter to kiss him.

"For fuck's sake, Peter!" Johnny exclaimed, suddenly frustrated at Peter's obtuseness, and waving his hands in the air melodramatically. "Yes, I'm serious! Now get your red and blue spider-ass over here, sit in my lap, and stick your tongue down my throat!"

Peter flushed. "You really want that?"

Exasperated, Johnny fell backwards onto the bed and put a pillow over his face. He lay there quietly for a few moments, holding up his hand warningly when Peter tried to talk. Then, just as abruptly, he sat up again and said vehemently, "Yes! Now do it before I change my mind." He crossed his arms, lifted his chin, and looked at Peter challengingly. "Or are you too scared?"

"You're trying to _taunt_ me into kissing you now?"

"If that's what it takes."

Peter stared at him for a few moments before walking slowly back to the bed, a look in his eyes Johnny'd never seen before, and Johnny thought he'd seen them all. He straddled Johnny's thighs, settling into his lap as Johnny looked up at him. Johnny found that he'd gone all tense, and was holding his breath for some reason, as though he was nervous. But why would he be nervous? 

He frowned, while Peter stared at him as though he could see right through him. Which, of course, he could. 

It was just Peter. Why would _Peter_ make him feel like this? Peter'd been near him so many times before. There'd been hugs aplenty. Hell, he'd woken up after a late night movie on a particularly cold and tiring day to find Peter had, drawn to his body heat in his sleep, draped over him like he was a warm blanket, hand clutching at Johnny's shirt, Johnny's arms wrapped tightly around Peter's torso. Sue'd taken pictures of them while they were sleeping to make sure they'd never live it down. 

Physical proximity was nothing new in their relationship. So why was he reacting like this now? 

And then, all of a sudden, he realized for the first time--why hadn't he ever noticed before?--that Peter had a very nice, kissable mouth. And found himself wondering what it would taste like, much to his surprise. Why the hell did the thought of tasting Peter's mouth make him shiver involuntarily? His body was reacting in ways his conscious mind found baffling.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise at the turmoil and uncertainty that were churning through Johnny's mind. Well, that was...unexpected. He suspected he might know why Johnny's traitorous body was reacting that way, even if Johnny didn't. He felt a slight flicker of hope. 

He stared at Johnny for a few moments, a slight, amused smile playing over his lips, before whispering, "Close your eyes." 

Johnny did, letting out a small, surprised gasp the moment Peter's hands touched his head, softly twisting one through the hair at the back of his neck and wrapping his other arm tightly around Johnny's shoulders, so that their chests were pressed against each other. Johnny could feel the warmth of Peter's breath on his face as Peter leaned down slowly, tantalizingly slowly. Johnny's pulse was racing, his palms sweaty, his breath quickening, his body more alert and aware of Peter's presence than ever before. 

And then Peter finally, _finally_ brushed his lips, feather-light, almost experimentally, against Johnny's mouth. 

It was the lightest ghost of a touch, but Johnny felt a surge of electricity shoot through him, like a white-hot burst of lightning. He felt the kiss that was, truthfully, frustratingly, barely worthy of the name down to his toes. He arched up into it, eyes still closed, but Peter'd moved his face infuriatingly out of reach by that point.

Peter drew back and looked wonderingly at Johnny's face, who still had his eyes closed and a slightly flushed, dazed expression on his face, as he too felt the way Johnny's body reacted to his teasing kiss.

Johnny still tingled from it, from the feel of Peter straddling his lap, his skin buzzing from where Peter'd been pressed against him moments before. And Johnny's hands were, for some odd reason, shaking, he realized, where they were resting lightly on Peter's hips--when had that happened? Johnny didn't even remember having put them there. 

He couldn't understand why his body was having such a reaction to this. It was...unusual. He'd been kissed before, and by some very hot women. Why was _this_ so intense? 

He knew, somehow, that he was desperate for a real kiss from Peter. If that not-quite-a-kiss had made his body feel like it was blazing with unquenched fires--and who would know better than he what that felt like?--how would it react to a real kiss? Johnny found he was dying to know.

Johnny's eyes fluttered open. "That all you got, Bugboy?" he said in a tone he hoped was taunting, but was probably too breathless for that. And then he added, suddenly, wonderfully earnest, "Peter. I want you to kiss me like you've always wanted to kiss me. Don't you dare hold back."

Peter's emotions were in turmoil. He wasn't sure this was really happening. He wanted to kiss Johnny, really kiss Johnny this time, but he wanted to make Johnny understand first precisely what it meant--to _both_ of them, he now realized, although he thought it was still too good to be true.

Taking advantage of their telepathic connection, he closed his eyes and summoned up memories of all the times over the past few years when he'd wanted to kiss Johnny senseless, knowing that Johnny could see them too. He heard the breath hitch in Johnny's throat as he was flooded with evidence of the duration and intensity of Peter's feelings for him.

Peter opened his eyes and glanced down at Johnny, almost as though he were afraid of how Johnny would react. He felt as though he'd laid himself bare in front of Johnny. God, but he hoped he was right about Johnny's feelings. 

"Jesus, Peter," Johnny whispered, astonished. "How the hell did you keep that a secret?"

Peter smiled softly. "How the hell did you keep it a secret, even from yourself, that you felt the same way?"

"What?" Johnny asked quietly, shocked.

"You do," Peter replied, almost crying from joy and relief. "I can see it in your mind now, Johnny. Don't know how I didn't before. I think it's been there this whole time, ever since we've been linked, and probably since before. It's always there, just below the surface of your thoughts. Even when you aren't thinking about me, it's there. I just didn't recognize it for what it was."

Johnny frowned and started to think about how he felt about Peter, for what was probably the first time in their lengthy and eventful friendship. He was gazing up into Peter's face fixedly. 

Could it be true? Could Peter be right?

"Do I?" he asked, confused. "If I do, I honestly don't know it. I know that I care about you a lot. I know that I worry about you. I know that it hurts me to see you when you're sad, or in any kind of pain. I know that what I want more than anything is for you to be happy. I know that I love it when you smile. Especially if I'm the reason you're smiling. And...I guess I think about you, like a lot, now that I think about it."

He stopped as the realization hit him, finally, finally, after so many years. He felt as though he'd been living the last few years with a blindfold over his eyes and it had fallen off at long last. And now he could see the truth of his life, of his feelings for Peter, crisp and clear for the very first time. "Holy shit," he said wonderingly. "I am in love with you. I have been for years, I think." The last thought was strange, but he knew the moment he said it that it was true.

"I just never knew it until right now. Honestly, Peter," he continued, "I guess I was so convinced that I could only like women, it never occurred to me that I could've fallen in love with a guy." 

"But you really love me, Johnny?" Peter asked, as though he still couldn't quite believe his luck. "And you really don't care that I'm a guy?"

Johnny shrugged. "I won't lie, it's a little weird, and it'll take some getting used to, but, um, overall, no. I don't care all that much. Less than...less than I would have thought, honestly."

Peter beamed down at him, looking more deliriously happy than Johnny had ever seen him. It made his heart swell. He beamed back, discovering he was equally overjoyed. 

"So. I'm in love with you," Peter said. "You're in love with me. We're alone in your bedroom behind a locked door." He caressed Johnny's face tenderly, and leaned down slightly, bringing his lips closer to Johnny's. "Is there a reason we aren't kissing right now?" he breathed, almost a whisper.

"Damned if I can think of one," Johnny replied. He knew suddenly that he had never wanted anyone--anything--as badly as he wanted Peter in this moment. And there was nothing to keep them apart now.

He twisted his hand roughly in Peter's hair, and yanked his head down the final millimeter or so to claim his mouth as his own. The moment their mouths collided, they froze and moaned helplessly at the doubled wave of pleasure that washed over them, their own and the one echoed back at them via their psychic link. 

And then Johnny started to move frantically, licking his tongue over Peter's mouth, searching desperately for an opening. Peter obliged, splitting his lips open, and moaned loudly--kind of embarrassingly loudly, really--when Johnny began licking into his mouth, running his hands down Peter's back, cupping his ass and pulling him flush against him. And then Johnny was sucking on Peter's tongue, biting his lower lip, and Peter couldn't hold back a constant stream of frantic moans and pleased sighs, especially when he realized that Johnny was making equally desperate, needy noises. 

It was all viciously fast and rough and raw, teeth and tongues and hands moving at a desperate, urgent pace. Every time Johnny remembered how close they'd come to never knowing they both felt this way about each other, to letting this, this bliss, this heaven, pass them by, he kissed Peter harder and deeper and faster. 

If this accident had never happened, Peter never would have told him how he felt. Johnny might have been too stupid to ever realize what had been there, right in front of him, this whole time, if he had only ever had the courage to admit it to himself, courage like Peter's.

Johnny, Peter discovered, kissed the way he fought--fiery, impulsive, giving no quarter or respite. He was determined to make Peter moan and gasp and then swallow every tiny noise Peter made.

Peter found that he was now lying on the bed, although he couldn't remember how he got there, and, damn it, he wanted to remember every second of this, have it branded into his memory so he'd never forget it, not ever, and Johnny was pressed on top of him now, grinding down on him with delicious heat and friction, running his hands dizzyingly through Peter's hair, stroking down his chest as he kissed him as though his life depended on it, and it was good, it was so good, it was more than Peter had ever dreamed possible. 

Johnny was all around him, blazing hot, until it seemed to Peter that there was nothing, nothing but Johnny and his demanding hands and silky smooth tongue and the delicious weight and heat of his body thrusting Peter against the mattress. Peter thrilled at every touch, every lick, every bite, his hands searching desperately for some sliver of bare skin, and frustratingly finding none. How the hell did Johnny get this stupid costume off?

And then, suddenly, infuriatingly, Johnny stopped. "Why'd you stop?" Peter whined.

"So," Johnny said casually, "does the fact that you're trying to tear my clothes off mean you're planning on putting out tonight?"

Peter couldn't help but laugh with joy at the utter absurdity and newness of hearing Johnny Storm asking him if he wanted to have sex with him. He still couldn't believe this was happening. It was...unreal.

"I don't know," he said, once his laughter had abated, trying desperately not to giggle. "You haven't even bought me dinner yet."

"Well," Johnny chuckled, "if you do put out, I promise to make you breakfast. For the rest of your life, if you'll let me."

"I'd be an idiot to turn down a lifetime of free breakfasts."

"Oh, but, see, you are an idiot."

Peter pouted. "Well, then so are you."

Johnny smiled down at him. He really wanted to nip Peter's pouting lower lip. "I guess we're perfect for each other, then."

"You know how we'd be more perfect for each other?" Peter whispered conspiratorially. "If we were wearing less clothes."

Johnny barked a laugh and buried his head in Peter's shoulder as his shoulders shook. It was so adorable. Peter wanted to make him do it again.

After they had sex, preferably.

Johnny raised his head and smiled smugly. "We can do that," he said, right before he pounced on Peter's mouth again, once more engulfing Peter in his fiery presence and covering every inch of bare skin with frantic kisses. And soon there was a lot of bare skin.

Johnny was like a wild thing. He kissed Peter with a passion that was raw, uncontrolled, uninhibited. Peter felt as though he'd been caught in the flames of some kind of raging wildfire, and the only thing he was certain of was that he hoped it'd never end or pause even for a moment, because it was perfect, so perfect, and he wasn't completely sure he wasn't just dreaming this, or maybe he'd died at some point and this was heaven, because he was sure that this is what his heaven would be like. But he knew it couldn't be a dream or a hallucination, because having sex with Johnny, the real, living Johnny, was so different than he'd ever imagined. It was everything he had ever hoped, ever dreamed it would be. 

No--it was better than that. So infinitely, inexpressibly _better._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Morning after for Peter and Johnny. Johnny asks Peter a fairly momentous question.


	3. Smiles in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some references to Gwen's death and Peter in mourning. Just as a warning.

As Peter drifted awake slowly, eyes still tightly shut, he felt a bit disoriented. He was so strangely comfortable and, most of all, _warm_. Certainly warmer than he had any right to be in his badly insulated apartment with its heater that had broken down so inconveniently in the middle of January.

He finally convinced himself to open his eyes, more than a little afraid of what he'd find. It took a startling amount of willpower, since his eyes, still so thick and heavy from sleep, were convinced that they didn't, in fact, want to open. When at last he persuaded them to, he glanced at his surroundings with a great deal of trepidation.

As a superhero, he'd had a quite lot of experience with waking up and not knowing exactly where he was. It typically ended badly. Kidnappings, alien planets, hospitals...it just...it was never fun. 

Well, now that he had his eyes open, he decided that, yep, it was definitely not his apartment. His eyes passed over fancy model cars and posters and a television and video game console that were both the latest model, and that he definitely couldn't afford, and certainly didn't own. 

He frowned. It looked like...Huh. His eyes widened. Oh. He recognized this room. Well, that was comforting. And also slightly terrifying.

_It was Johnny's._

But that meant...he turned to his left and, sure enough, found that a golden head of hair was nestled softly in the crook between his neck and shoulder. A gloriously naked Johnny Storm was snuggled against him, grabbing him so tightly, he now realized, he could hardly breathe. Peter tried to get him to loosen his grip, and he actually began to whimper, still asleep, and clutch Peter more tightly, as though he never wanted to let go.

"Oh yeah," Peter murmured to himself, blushing crimson as the night before suddenly came rushing back to him. "So I didn't dream that."

Peter had a difficult time accepting that the night before had really happened. It had been amazing. Johnny was... _great_ in bed, Peter'd discovered. Like, the-tabloid-rumors-were-not-exaggerating-at-all good. He was passionate, intense, fierce. Fiery, even. Not actually fiery, of course. Peter would have thought sex with Johnny was much less fun if he'd been covered with burns afterwards.

Even though Peter was pretty positive that this had been his first time having sex with a guy, Johnny was still strangely good at everything. Well, he was good at first and then got kind of spectacular by the end there. 

Being able to sense exactly what Peter was thinking, what Peter needed, the moment he thought it probably helped. Peter didn't think he'd ever come so hard in his life.

Peter felt...the only word he could think of to describe it was _blissful_ right now. At peace. Content. Safe. As though lying here, wrapped in Johnny's arms, nothing bad could ever reach him, could ever touch him, could cause him pain ever again.

But he knew that wasn't true. He knew that nowhere was safe. He knew that even here, in the relative safety of the Baxter Building, terrible things could and would happen. And that was what he was afraid of. The small fear, the spot of darkness that was keeping him from reveling undisturbed in the warmth and peace of Johnny's arms. 

He was afraid, so afraid, of losing Johnny. That someone would take Johnny away from him, like Gwen had been taken away. 

Basic fact of Peter's life: when things were going well, when he was happy, that meant everything was about to go terribly, hideously wrong. The worst that could happen, would happen. Having something he cared about, something he loved? That only meant he had something to lose.

And if anything ever happened to Johnny because of him...god. It would...it would destroy him. He didn't know if he could survive that again. The loss of Gwen had almost been too much for him. And it had been his fault, all his fault, and he knew that, lived with it every damn day, the pain and guilt and sorrow of what had happened to brilliant, beautiful Gwen because of him, the knowledge of the loss the world had suffered of a genius scientist and all the good she surely would have done, because she was good, she was so good, and her death at such a young age was devastating. 

But Johnny? Losing Johnny that way? Having to deal with more pain, more guilt? What he felt because of Gwen's death, that by itself was, at times, already overwhelming. If he let himself think about it too much, he'd feel this tightness in his chest. Like he couldn't catch a breath no matter how hard he tried. It still had the power to make him fall to pieces even though it had happened years ago.

And Johnny...he burned so brightly and was so, so beautiful. He brought light and joy into the world. Even though he could be a conceited, self-centered ass--Peter loved him, that didn't mean he was blind to the guy's faults--people loved him. He was important. He inspired others to be better than they were. He was a role model, an idol. He made a difference in the world. And Peter loved him for it.

It also made him all too aware of precisely how much Johnny would be missed, would be mourned, and not just by him. The gaping black hole his absence would leave in the world.

Peter could feel his throat clenching with terror at the mere thought of what it would be like to lose Johnny. It couldn't happen. He couldn't let it. No. No way.

He couldn't let his awful, awful luck rub off on Johnny. Maybe he should end this, if just for Johnny's sake.

But he knew as he thought it that he could never do that. He knew it was unforgivably selfish, but he _needed_ Johnny. Like he needed air, like he needed water. Johnny was _necessary_. No matter how bad everything else in his life got, Johnny's calming, steady presence was as sturdy and unchanging as a rock. Peter took comfort in the knowledge that he would never leave Peter, never betray him, never turn his back on him. He was someone Peter could lean on if he needed it, someone he could turn to for comfort and affection. He was his island of sanity in the midst of the insanity that was his life. No matter how dark, no matter how painful his life became, he knew he could always reach out his hand for help, and he would always, unfailingly, find Johnny's there, waiting.

And now that he knew Johnny loved him, now that he knew what it was like to be loved by him, to wake up wrapped tightly in Johnny's loving arms, he didn't think he could ever, ever stop. As long as Johnny still loved him, still wanted him--and Peter was so, so terrified that he'd mess up someday and Johnny would stop--Peter would stay with him. He knew he'd never be able to make himself walk away, even if it was to save Johnny from the disaster that was his life. 

He needed the warmth and reassurance Johnny provided. He was drawn to it. It was his shelter, his refuge. 

That he couldn't walk away, even though he knew there'd be a steep cost made him an awful, weak person, he guessed. But he couldn't help it. He just couldn't. 

He suddenly realized Johnny's breathing was no longer as even as it had been. He felt a profound sadness and a fierce sense of overprotectiveness wash over him. Oh. Johnny was awake. Peter grew very still. He hadn't meant for Johnny to hear that. "How much did you hear?" he asked quietly.

"Enough," Johnny answered gruffly. He held Peter more tightly while wondering what on earth he could say to help Peter deal with his guilt and fear. He was at a loss for words. But he knew that he needed to help Peter somehow, even if he had no clue how to go about it.

Peter seemed content to wait in silence.

"Peter," Johnny said, finally breaking the silence. "This is--that was--what I heard, it was about Gwen, wasn't it?"

Silence. But Johnny could feel Peter reeling internally from the mere mention of her name.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," he said. "That isn't--that won't happen with us."

"You can't know that," Peter interjected sharply. "Don't pretend you can."

Johnny was a bit taken aback by Peter's vehemence. But he knew he needed to fight Peter on this. "Yes, I do. I'm not her. I'm not a scientist. I'm a superhero. I have badass superpowers. I know how to fight. I can protect myself. I can protect you."

Peter shook his head sadly. "That's not always enough. Sometimes terrible things happen, and there's nothing anyone can do." He was silent again for a few moments. Then, stumbling clumsily over the words, in a voice achingly full of pain and sorrow, one that made Johnny long to hold him tight and never let go, he continued, "Johnny. I can't--I can't go through that again. You don't understand what it's like to lose someone you're so very in love with that way. It's--it hurts more than I can say. It tears you apart. Makes you feel like there's this gigantic, gaping wound where your heart used to be that will never heal. And it never does. Gwen's death--just talking about it hurts. And you--I don't know if you understand how much I love you. How much I need you. I don't know if I would--if I could survive l--losing you."

Johnny was silent for a few moments, mulling over what Peter had said. "Maybe it will happen. Maybe it won't. But I know you. If it did, you'd survive it. You're the strongest person I know."

Peter was unconvinced. _I need you to understand,_ Peter said. _Let me show you._

He felt Peter's mind reaching out to his, seeking entrance. Without even thinking, without even understanding how he did it, he pulled Peter in, enveloping him in as much warmth and affection as he could. He felt Peter send a tremulous burst of gratitude back. 

And then, all of a sudden, Johnny could see Peter's memories flashing in front of him. He saw the moment of Gwen's death. He felt a small shock. He'd never thought Peter would ever share this with him. Peter rarely talked about it, and when he did, he never gave much detail. Just the bare facts--Gwen's death at the hands of the Green Goblin. And always present, always unspoken, the fear--no, the _belief_ \--that it had all been his fault. 

Johnny'd tried to imagine it before, when he found out about it, tried to comprehend, however ineffectively, what Peter must have gone through. 

The reality, he discovered with a pang of horror, was infinitely more painful than anything he had ever imagined. 

He saw her deceptively slow fall, saw in her eyes the precise moment when she realized Peter couldn't save her, felt Peter's heartbreaking, naive certainty that all would be well, because everything always was. Because it was Gwen, and he loved her, and she couldn't die. Her death was simply...unthinkable. 

And then...Peter's horror and inconsolable grief the moment he realized she was dead. That he had failed her more thoroughly than he had ever failed anyone before in his life. And she was the one who mattered to him the most.

Johnny heard the scream of anguish and pain and guilt that sounded to him as though it had been torn directly from Peter's soul. He knew that the sound of it would haunt him the rest of his life.

He watched as Peter held Gwen's lifeless body and wept. And wept. Held her until her young, broken body was cold and stiff in his arms. Feeling as though he could never let go of her. Because he knew that when he let her go, it would be forever.

And then there were the days that followed. Peter, lying in bed in a dark room, weeping as though he couldn't stop. A pain so sharp, so intense, it was as though a knife were cutting him open. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to think, it hurt to do anything but shut his eyes and cry. 

Gwen was gone. Beautiful, wonderful, brilliant Gwen. The world suddenly seemed so harsh, and dark, and unwelcoming.

And then came the days when Peter tried to put himself back together. Slowly, painfully, piece by piece. He had to build himself a new life, one without Gwen, one that seemed so cold, so bare, so worthless when she wasn't there. 

He gasped as the memories ended, and realized that there were tears streaming down his face.

Peter was watching him, face unreadable in the dark. But Johnny was sure Peter's eyes were glistening tearfully. 

"You see?" Peter asked, voice quavering. "Do you understand what it's like now?"

Johnny nodded, throat tight, not trusting himself to speak. He wrapped his arms around Peter and held him as tightly as he could. "Yes," he said. "I see."

He didn't know what to say. This isn't what he did. This wasn't his life. He was all about living in the moment. Losing himself in fast cars and fast women. Running away, far and fast, from any real, deep emotions. 

He didn't know what to say to help Peter. He had no wisdom to impart.

"I hope that won't happen to us," he found himself saying. "But we can't live our lives now--we can't make decisions about what to do--based on something that might never happen. Are you going to let fear of the future dictate how you live your life? I don't do that. I don't run from the things I'm afraid of. I meet them head on. Maybe that _is_ where our relationship's headed. With the lives we lead, maybe that's the only way it ever could end. I don't believe that, though. I can't. I have to believe we'll be happy. And I have to stop worrying about what the future might hold. All I know is, we're happy now. And that is all that matters." He reached out and put his hand over Peter's heart. "This. Right here, right now. I'm here, with you, and that's what matters."

"I can't lose you, Johnny," Peter rasped out, voice thick with unshed tears.

Johnny grasped Peter's head and pressed his forehead against his lover's. "You won't," he said fiercely. "I won't let that happen. And I would never, never leave you. That I promise."

Peter buried his head in Johnny's shoulder. Johnny felt as Peter began to shake with sobs, and drew him closer, stroking his back lightly. He murmured soothing words into Peter's ear until he felt him drift gently back to sleep. His tired body swiftly sank into sleep soon after.

***********************

The second time, Johnny woke before Peter. He kept his eyes lightly shut and began to think about all that had happened since the night before. One night, that was all, and his entire world had changed. It had happened so fast, Johnny'd hardly had time to process any of it.

Now he was in a relationship with Peter. His best friend. Spider-Man. The day before, the thought of being in a serious, monogamous relationship with anyone, much less a guy, would have been laughable. He didn't do that. He had fun with the women he liked, they had fun with him, and then they'd tire of each other, and it would be over, no hard feelings.

But this, with Peter? It was nothing like any relationship he'd ever been in before. It was intense. It demanded of him a level of intimacy that was, for him, unprecedented.

Peter _depended_ on him. The thought terrified him more than he could say.

He'd never actually let any of his girlfriends in this far. Never allowed them to penetrate the thick walls he'd constructed around his heart to keep himself from being hurt. But Peter? He'd wormed his way in before Johnny'd even realized what had happened. Taken root there. Made himself at home. And now, he was there to stay, safely ensconced in Johnny's heart.

It felt so right. Thrilling. Exhilarating. And...utterly and completely terrifying.

He realized that he was afraid Peter wouldn't like what he saw once he got too close. That Peter would conclude that he truly was the shallow, self-obsessed, stupid waste of space everyone thought he was. And leave. Walk out of Johnny's life because he'd decided Johnny was a worthless excuse for a human being.

Now _that_ was something that would break Johnny's heart. He'd always been so careful to avoid letting anyone get close enough to hurt him like that. So that there would never even be the tiniest risk of letting that happen again. 

But Peter? Peter could hurt him so easily. A few harsh words, that's all it'd take. It would be devastating. He cared so much about what Peter thought, what Peter did. He was in for it now. He just knew it.

There was no way this was going to end in anything other than heartache, no matter how far the line. Ten years, twenty, fifty, eventually there'd be pain, there'd be sorrow. It was unavoidable now.

And he knew that whether he lost Peter tomorrow, or whether he lost him fifty years from now, it would never get easier.

Of course, he knew that there would be joy too. There was no denying that. Johnny knew that from watching Reed and Sue. Even when they were arguing, when they caused each other pain, there was always, beneath the surface, a sense of deep satisfaction, secure as they were in the knowledge that they had each other. That they would always have each other, no matter what. And that gave their lives hope and meaning. Filled their days with delight and happiness.

Johnny suddenly realized that he wanted that with Peter. He hoped he could have it.

He wanted all of Peter, everything he had to give, and wanted to give himself to Peter just as completely. It was a terrifying realization. He'd never felt so vulnerable, so dependent on someone else for his own happiness, in his whole entire life.

Everything depended on the small, fragile man he was holding in his arms, who made a habit of throwing himself head first into danger. 

He started to understand why Peter was so terrified of losing him. 

He was terrified of losing Peter too.

***********************

Johnny lay there, holding Peter quietly, for what felt like a long time. Eventually, he felt Peter wake up. 

"You okay now?" he asked into the darkness.

"Yeah, Torchy. I'm fine. Momentary nervous breakdown. I have them."

Johnny smiled thinly into Peter's hair. "I know, love."

"Love. I like you calling me that. Never thought you ever would."

"Then that's what I'll always call you," Johnny whispered, voice tight with emotion, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

Peter drew back and looked up at him, deeply touched, eyes dark and full of love and need and want.

Johnny wordlessly bent his head and caught Peter's mouth in his own. 

********************

Johnny was lying, eyes closed, with his head pressed against Peter's chest, lulled half to sleep by the sound of Peter's heart softly pounding, Peter's fingers stroking gently through his hair and tracing soothing patterns against his back.

"Johnny," he heard Peter ask, "do you remember when I told you that I liked the way our relationship was?"

"Mmm," Johnny hummed drowsily.

"I was wrong. This is much better."

Johnny smiled against Peter's warm skin. "Hmph," he huffed, mock grouchily. "Only an idiot would've thought that. This is obviously better."

He felt Peter shake with silent laughter.

His smile widened, and he snuggled closer.

"What time is it?" Peter asked after a few moments.

"Dunno," Johnny yawned. "Don't really care."

"I have to be at work at nine."

Johnny jerked awake completely. He drew back and stared at Peter, eyes wide with horror. He wasn't ready to be separated from Peter yet. "No," he said desperately. "Please stay. Don't go yet."

"Johnny. We can't stay in bed forever. We need to get on with our regular lives."

"I know. I know that. I'm not stupid. Just...not yet? Call in sick. Just today. Just give me today. I'll never ask you to do it again."

Peter was torn. Staying in bed with his boyfriend all day sounded amazing. But he needed money. Badly.

"You have no idea how much I'd love that. But I can't. I just can't. Need the money. For rent. My heater's broken, and it's January, and I'd rather not freeze to death. And I'm behind on all of my bills. I'd love to...but I can't."

Johnny let his head sag back against Peter's chest for a few moments, pensive. Then he lifted his head and said, "Peter. There's an easy way to solve all your problems. And mine." His mouth opened, as though he didn't quite know how to ask. "Move in with me," he said simply.

Peter inhaled sharply. "Johnny, we've been dating a day. Less than a day. You can't ask someone you've been dating less than a day to move in with you."

"We've known each other five years," Johnny countered. "And I know I love you. I know I want to be with you as much as I can. Which would be easier if we were living together. So. Move in with me."

Peter tilted his head and looked at Johnny for a few moments without saying a word. "I'll think about it," he said at last.

Johnny sighed heavily. "If you must."

"You never answered my question. What time is it?"

Johnny rolled his eyes and leaned over to check the clock. He winced.

Peter's eyes widened apprehensively. "Oh no. What time is it?" 

Johnny sighed. "Little before eight."

"Oh my god!" Peter exclaimed, horrified. "I need to get home and change!"

"No!" Johnny howled. "No! Don't go!" He clutched onto Peter's torso tightly as the latter struggled to get out of bed, dragging all of the sheets along with them as they wrestled.

Finally, Peter succeeded in getting out of bed, and he leapt around the room, assembling his Spidey-suit as Johnny watched him, pouting, arms crossed, from the bed, sheets rearranged around him. 

"You suck, Webhead," Johnny said petulantly, though half-jokingly. "How can you say no to all-day sex with someone as hot as me? Do you know how many people would kill for that?"

Peter stopped in his tracks, turned, and gave Johnny his best I-am-so-not-amused face.

One side of Johnny's mouth ticked upwards. Then he flashed Peter his best and brightest grin. 

"I hate you," Peter said, tilting his head back and shaking it while staring exasperatedly upwards.

Johnny's eyes narrowed. "Uh, pretty sure you meant love, there, Spidey."

"Mmm. No. Pretty sure I meant what I said. Seen my other boot?"

Johnny pointed to his right. "I threw it over there somewhere."

Peter went to search. "Found it!" he exclaimed triumphantly, holding it up so Johnny would see.

Johnny shook his head, amused. "You're such a dork," he said affectionately.

"Yeah," Peter smiled. "But I'm _your_ dork."

Johnny beamed at him. "That you are, love."

Peter turned to hide his smile.

Not that that fooled Johnny at all.

When Peter was dressed, he moved towards the window. Then halted suddenly and turned to look at Johnny, who, he found, was watching him forlornly.

He ran to the bed and kissed Johnny breathless. "I'll be back. I swear. Actually," he said, face brightening, "why don't you meet me for lunch? Two o'clock, at the Bugle."

Johnny's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Yes. I would like that."

Peter kissed him again. "I'll miss you."

"I know. I'll miss you too." 

Another kiss. "Right. I'm going now." Kiss.

"Yeah." Kiss. "I can see that." Kiss.

"Your mouth just tastes kind of awesome? I think I might be addicted to kissing you. Is that a thing?" Kiss.

"Many women I've dated have had the same problem," Johnny deadpanned.

Peter laughed into the next kiss.

"Have I ever told you that the way you laugh is cute? You crinkle your nose when you laugh, Peter, did you know that? It's. So. Cute," Johnny said, punctuating each of the last three words with a kiss.

"You get dimples when you laugh. Right there, and there," Peter said, kissing the places on Johnny's face where the dimples appeared. He smiled down at Johnny. "That's cute too." 

"You need to go now," Johnny said, pulling his head back. "Or you're never making it out of here."

Peter kissed him fiercely and moved away, looking thoroughly and completely miserable.

He walked to the window, and turned to find Johnny still watching him. He raised his hand and waved. Johnny smiled half-heartedly.

Peter put on his mask and jumped out the window.

Johnny collapsed back against the bed, suddenly feeling colder than he had in years.

********************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that took a long time to write. I swear, I wrote about three drafts before I got to this! Couldn't get the tone right.
> 
> Anyways, next chapter will probably be a Johnny/Sue convo, with maybe some other members of the Fantastic Four putting in an appearance. I'll figure it out when I write it.


	4. Rooftop Conversations

After Peter left for work, Johnny tossed and turned for an hour or so before giving up all hope of going back to sleep.

He felt as though he couldn't lie still. All of his worries about his new relationship with Peter, which lay dormant as long as he had Peter to hold on to, Peter to anchor him, came crashing to the surface the moment he left. Like a pack of hungry wolves circling his bed, waiting to pounce and tear his dreams to shreds the moment he was alone.

He sat up and sighed wearily, resting one arm on his knee and using his other hand to rub the back of his neck. 

It was too stuffy in his room, he decided. He needed to feel the wind in his hair. It was the only thing that gave him a sense of calm and stillness when he felt like this.

He got up, showered quickly, and threw on a pair of comfortable old jeans and a Fantastic Four t-shirt.

He called in sick to work--he knew he'd be no good in the office anyhow. And was perfectly aware of the fact that Jian, his PA, could easily handle everything without him. He knew he was there to charm potential investors and clients more than he was for his nonexistent business savvy. She was the brains--he was just the pretty smile. He knew that, he accepted it, but there was always some part of him that felt...upset about it. He wanted to be good at something. Like really good. The way Peter and Reed were at science. The way Tony Stark seemed to be at, well, everything.

He found himself wandering to his usual haunt, the place he always went when he wanted to think--the roof of the Baxter Building. Hardly anyone ever came up there, so when he wanted, for whatever reason, to escape from the noise and bustle of their busy lives, that's where he went.

Sue, Reed, and Ben knew that he went up there when he wanted to be alone, so they rarely ever bothered him.

Unless, of course, Sue suspected he might need some big sisterly advice. Johnny didn't know if he wanted to talk to Sue about what was bothering him. He didn't actually know what exactly it was. It was a lot of things, he guessed. His life had changed in so many infinite, minute, and yet somehow all-encompassing ways in the space of a few brief hours. 

A small frown crinkled his brow as he stared sightlessly at the New York skyline, lost in his thoughts as the wind rippled pleasantly through his hair. He was leaning carelessly against the wall, stomach pressed against its edge, hands clasped together.

He finally allowed his worries to catch up to him, seeking to understand what it was that was unsettling him. 

He was happy with Peter. He realized that much. So it wasn't that. 

Being around Peter made him happier than he'd ever really expected to be. He'd always thought that because of his powers, because of the very real danger that if he allowed anyone to get to close they'd be harmed, he could never have any kind of intimacy. Any kind of close, loving relationship. 

He made a point of pushing the women he really liked away. Especially if he suspected he could fall for them. It was safer for them, even if it broke his heart. 

But he hadn't had the foresight to do that to Peter. He'd never thought there was any danger there, because he'd assumed their relationship would never shift to one between lovers.

And yet here they were. Dating. And Johnny still had that tiny little niggle of worry in the back of his mind. What if he hurt Peter? Peter's Spidey-sense made him more difficult to hurt, but that's not to say it was an impossibility. Johnny'd seen him hurt enough times to know that.

And the night before, in the throes of passion, Johnny'd felt closer to losing control than he had in years. Sex usually wasn't a problem when it was casual. Without any kind of personal connection, it was fun, enjoyable, but nothing, he'd discovered last night, like what it was like when it was with someone you loved. Were in love with, completely and totally. 

Johnny was always so careful never to let himself go. Always holding part of himself back. Always keeping everyone at a distance.

But his emotions for Peter were overwhelming. Intense. Scary. They made it difficult to hold back anything. Made him long to let go, lose himself completely in the feel of Peter's body moving against his, in the raw passion he felt every time he looked at Peter, touched him, kissed him.

That was something that could never happen. He knew that. And that was why it was a problem. He was afraid he'd hurt Peter, but at the same time, he was so wrapped up in him, he didn't really think he'd ever be able to walk away from him.

He simultaneously longed to push Peter away for his own safety and to hold on to him tightly and never let go. 

He really didn't know what to do with that.

He _needed_ Peter now.

And that was goddamn _terrifying_.

He heard soft footsteps behind him. Sue. He stayed still, deciding not to turn his head to look at her. Maybe if he didn't she'd figure out that he didn't want to talk.

"Johnny?" he heard her say uncertainly. "Are you alright? Jian said you called in sick this morning."

He let his head sag, but still didn't turn to look at her. She knew him too well. She'd read his face like it was an open book. 

"Uh, yeah, Sue," he said, trying to sound calm. "I'm fine...just stuff I need to think about."

Sue was silent for a few moments. He knew, if he turned his head, exactly what look she'd have on her face. The arms-crossed, you-aren't-fooling-anyone look.

He hated that look.

She moved to stand next to him, leaning her back against the wall so she could study his face. He fidgeted nervously. He knew he was in for it now. She hadn't gone away, and that meant she knew something was up, and he, obviously, knew that she knew it. 

"This is about Peter, isn't it?"

His head snapped over so he could stare at her, flummoxed. He found, much to his chagrin, that she was staring at him intensely, scrutinizing his face for the tiniest hint as to what he was thinking. His lips twisted with displeasure when he saw her smirk a bit at what she saw. 

He felt his face grow warm. He looked away quickly, remaining silent, having decided that he'd given too much away already. 

How the hell had she known that? Oh. Reed had probably told her about the telepathic link. That's what she meant. 

"It is, isn't it? You're telepathically linked, and you found out things about him." 

Oh shit. He was second guessing himself now. Did she know, or didn't she?

"About how he feels about you," she continued. 

She definitely knew. 

She was silent again. But this time the texture of the silence was different. It was as though she were expecting him to say something.

He let his head drop in defeat. Fuck it, she knew anyways. God knows how she'd figured it out.

"Yes. You're right. Peter's in love with me. How did you know?"

She snorted. "Oh please. Everyone knows. Reed knows, and Reed never knows about things like this. Ben definitely knows. That's why he always calls Peter your little boyfriend. Didn't you ever wonder why? Oh, and Franklin knows. He keeps asking me if Spider-Man is his uncle yet."

Johnny's eye twitched. "Whoa. We are not there yet, relationship-wise."

Sue's eyes narrowed. "But there is a relationship now? I mean, are you two dating now?"

Johnny shut his eyes and took a deep breath before saying, very reluctantly, "Yes. We're dating."

Sue suddenly smiled, relieved and happy. She leaned over and ruffled his hair excitedly. "Oooo! My little brother, all grown up and dating Spider-Man! I'm so proud! Johnny, that is wonderful news! I wasn't sure you'd be able to get over yourself enough to say yes." 

"Jesus, Sue!" Johnny exclaimed, batting her hands away in annoyance. "Thanks for the vote of no confidence."

"Sorry. You just, you have to admit...you aren't the greatest. At relationships."

Johnny scowled. "I do just fine with them, thank you very much! I've had tons."

Sue winced. "Kinda my point there, little brother."

Johnny buried his head in his arms. "Yeah, fine, whatever, I suck at relationships. That might sort of be part of why I'm up here worrying."

"What do you mean, Johnny?" Sue asked, suddenly switching into motherly-Sue mode.

Johnny let out a long sigh. He so did not want to talk about emotions and stuff. With like anyone. Well, maybe Peter, if he had to. But he did sort of want advice, and Sue was married to a brainy scientist superhero type. She'd be able to give him advice about his own brainy scientist superhero.

He lifted his head. "It's just...you're right. I suck at relationships. What if I mess things up with Peter? And Sue, Peter's so smart. What if he gets bored of me and leaves one day, cause I'm not smart enough?"

Sue was smiling at him softly. "You really love him, don't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Johnny said grudgingly. "Don't spread it around. I'll deny ever having said that."

Sue grinned. "Oh Johnny. I told you. Everyone already knows."

Johnny froze. "I thought you meant everyone knows that _Peter_ feels that way about _me._ Not that I feel that way about him."

"Noooo," Sue said, shaking her head, amused. "Everyone knows that the Human Torch and Spider-Man have a thing for each other. Everyone."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Johnny hid his face again. "My life sucks."

Sue pressed a hand to her mouth as she shook with silent laughter. "Johnny, he's not going to get tired of you, you know. He adores you. And he knows how smart you are, and it doesn't bother him. Reed and I work just fine, and I'm not as smart as him. Well, not when it comes to science, anyways. I'm smarter about other things. I think you'll find that's the case with you and Peter as well. You'll bring different things to the relationship--that's why it works."

That seemed to cheer Johnny up slightly. "Oh yeah!" he said brightly. "That's true."

Then he sagged again. "But, Sue, what about...do you remember that time we switched dreams? Do you remember my nightmare? The thing I was afraid of?"

Sue frowned, as she struggled to remember. Then her forehead smoothed over as she recalled it. She looked at Johnny pityingly. "Yes. You dreamed that all of your exes asked you why you left them. It was because you were afraid of hurting them. You dreamt you lost control and set them all on fire. Johnny, are you afraid of hurting Peter?"

Johnny's mouth was a thin, worried line. "Yes. God yes. If I lose control, even for a second, Peter could be hurt or--or worse, and I can't let that happen. What do I do, Sue?"

He leaned his head against her shoulder, seeking warmth and comfort. Sue reached her hand up to stroke his hair. "You stay with him. You'll be fine. I found out, when we swapped powers, how difficult it is to stay in control of yours. But you always do it, always."

Johnny's throat clenched. "I don't know about that, Sue. Last night, when I was...with him, I felt...so close to losing control. Closer than I've felt in years. It scared me. It would be so easy to lose control when I'm with him. But if I did, I would hurt him."

"No," Sue replied. "I don't believe you could hurt him, and I don't believe you will. Ever. And that's no reason to push him away."

"He kinda wanted to break up with me, you know."

The hand in Johnny's hair froze. "Why on earth would he want to do that?"

"Because he's afraid that what happened to Gwen will happen to me. That I'll die and it'll be what he thinks is his fault. He's afraid of losing me."

"Oh god. That poor boy." She hid her face in her free hand and turned away from Johnny slightly.

"He showed me, you know. What it was like for him after she died." His chest tightened. "I can't go through that, Sue! I just can't!"

"You are both making this _far_ too complicated. Do you love each other?"

Johnny said nothing for a few seconds. "Yes," he finally answered. 

"Then, little brother, that's all that matters. Look at Reed and me. We're constantly in danger, but we're happily married. We have children. There's no reason why you and Peter couldn't have that too."

"I hope so," was his only reply.

Johnny lifted his head, and looked out at the city. Peter was out there somewhere. Johnny could feel him still, in the back of his mind. Even when they were this physically far apart, their link was still there. If Johnny tried to focus on it, he could hear Peter, could feel what he was up to, but otherwise it was mostly just background noise. Easy to tune out. Unless there was a strong burst of emotion, Johnny imagined. That could be useful, he supposed.

He needed to see Peter again. Everything would be fine the moment he saw him again, he knew. All of his worries would vanish in the warmth of Peter's smile. 

Was it two o'clock yet? 

************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: lunch date!


	5. Cowboy Boots and Biting Kink

Johnny'd been right. Peter should have called in sick. Getting out of bed had been a huge mistake, Peter realized, much, much too late. From the moment he'd left Johnny's side, Peter's day had been going deplorably. He'd gotten to work late, despite his best efforts, because he'd stupidly decided to take the bus rather than websling over. It was cold out, and his Spidey-suit didn't offer much insulation. He'd been chilled to the bone by the time he got to his apartment, and he didn't particularly relish the thought of having to do that again. So he'd bundled up in his warmest coat, as well as his best gloves and favorite knitted cap, the ones Aunt May had knitted especially for him, and took off for the bus.

 _Of course_ it'd been delayed.

 _Of course_ JJ had yelled at him when he finally made it to the office, feeling as though he were frozen solid. Well, he'd screamed, really. Peter had distracted himself by fixating on the pulsing vein on the side of JJ's temple, and simply tuned out the yelling as best he could.

If he could deal with Dr. Doom's supervillain ranting, he could definitely deal with JJ chewing him out.

Then, as punishment, Peter suspected, he'd been assigned to take photos of the mayor, who'd been scheduled to give a speech on his new plan for the city on the steps of City Hall. 

Outside. In the middle of winter.

 _Of course_ it'd snowed.

There'd been a large, adoring crowd. A clearly completely unhinged crowd, given that it was cold as hell, and why would anyone be outside if they didn't need to be? 

And, worst of all, it'd been a very _noisy_ crowd. Enhanced spider-senses and very, very loud sounds? Not a great mix.

There was also the fact that Peter was starving, since he hadn't had time to eat on his way to work. Thanks to his superpowers, he also had a very high metabolism. His stomach rumbled loudly the whole time he was there.

Plus, he was freezing his ass off, thanks to his cheap, not very warm coat and the small flurries of snow that had insisted on falling right when the Mayor's speech began.

Peter sighed. It was going to be a long two hours.

All he wanted to do, the entire time he was listening halfheartedly to the speech, was run home and crawl back into bed with his very hot boyfriend. Hot in the sense of sexy, and in the sense of having a body temperature that resembled that of a furnace. Both of which were inexpressibly appealing to Peter in that moment.

Peter realized with a jolt that he'd just thought of the Baxter Building as home. 

No. That didn't feel right. Johnny. He'd thought of Johnny as home. He smiled down into his camera as the crowd screamed. 

Yes. That felt right.

He supposed he should get it over with and move in with Johnny, as he knew he inevitably would, but there was a small part of him that kept waiting for whatever bad thing that was going to happen to happen already. Something bad was coming. Peter just knew it.

He stayed at City Hall taking countless photographs from every angle imaginable until slightly past noon. Then, generally content with the shots he'd taken, he went back to the Daily Bugle. 

Johnny'd be along in an hour or so, and Peter wanted this job to be all done before then.

****************

He walked into the photography department to sift through his photos and choose the ones he wanted to submit to the editor.

The office slowly emptied out as people started leaving for lunch. Peter's stomach growled insistently. He'd managed to eat a pretzel earlier. Not that it had done much good.

Maybe he should've told Johnny 1:30 instead. He sighed, before settling down to work to distract himself from his growing hunger.

He was still sitting at the computer, absently sucking on a pen, when Johnny found him. 

Johnny paused briefly in the glass doorway of the tiny office Peter was in to enjoy the sight of his adorably unkempt boyfriend.

Peter's hair was disheveled slightly past the point of attractiveness, sticking up at all sorts of odd angles. He'd clearly run his hands through it absentmindedly a few times, and it was now desperately in need of a good comb.

Peter was dressed, as usual, in somewhat threadbare clothing. They were several years out of fashion and a sign of the state of poverty Peter lived in.

Johnny frowned lightly, suddenly displeased. He didn't like to think about Peter not being able to afford things he needed. Peter deserved everything good the world had to offer. And Johnny'd damn well do everything he could to make sure he got it.

But he knew Peter was too proud to let Johnny help too much. Which was irritating. Johnny didn't care about spending money. All he wanted was to make Peter happy.

Despite Peter's messy appearance, Johnny still found him shockingly attractive. There was something about it all together, the thin, wiry arms, the messy hair, the glasses he actually didn't need anymore, the terrible clothes, the awful, very unhygenic habit of sucking on pens, that screamed _Peter_ to Johnny, and god knows Johnny found Peter hot.

He was also weirdly jealous of the pen. That was a first, and kind of embarrassing, now that he thought about it.

"A pen, Johnny? Really?" Peter said, half teasing, half exasperated, without looking up from the computer screen.

Johnny smiled. Ah, of course Peter knew he was there. "What?" he said defensively, moving to lean against the desk next to Peter, so close he could touch him if he so desired. The sight of the bite marks he'd left the night before on Peter's neck made him long to do precisely that. He shoved his hands in the pockets of the dark blue, impeccably tailored overcoat he was wearing and clenched his fists. "I can just think of so many better things you could suck on. One in particular. You couldn't seem to get enough of it last night, at least," he added, voice low and dirty.

That got Peter's attention. He looked up at Johnny as his eyes darkened. "Well, I hope you don't think that's happening here, Torchy."

"You don't think desk sex sounds kinda hot?" 

"Not when there are people looking, you ass."

"I think we're the only ones here, Peter." He shrugged. "And, you know, knowing you might get caught is part of the fun." He leaned closer to Peter, saying, "Imagine how it'd up your street cred around here if you got caught blowing the Human Torch."

Peter crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair contentiously. "That is not what would happen. I'd probably get fired for unprofessional conduct. And I need this job."

"No, you don't. You could come work at the Foundation. I happen to know the COO very well. I'm sure he could put in a good word for you." 

"No," Peter said flatly. "That isn't going to happen."

Johnny's face fell as he valiantly fought the urge to pout. "Why not?" he whined. "It would be fun. We could see each other all the time!"

"Working for your boyfriend is not a good idea. Too complicated," Peter said firmly.

"Science division? You could work with Reed, and wouldn't be working for me, really."

"Did Reed say it was okay for you to ask me that?"

"No," Johnny admitted. "But I'm sure he'd love it. He knows how smart you are."

"I also technically am not qualified, since I don't have an actual doctorate," Peter countered. "So it's really a moot point."

"Well," Johnny answered, "that could be fixed, if you wanted to. I'd be willing to put you through grad school."

"Johnny," Peter snapped. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Johnny asked, genuinely confused.

"Stop trying to fix my life for me. Stop offering to pay for everything. It's not why I'm dating you. You don't need to do that. You don't need to give me money."

"I'm not an idiot, Peter. I know that. I just...want to help you."

Peter studied Johnny for a few long moments. "Let's drop the subject. For now. I'm starved," he said, clutching his stomach. "And I don't feel like arguing on an empty stomach." He smirked. "You can pay." 

He got up to grab his coat, which he'd draped over the back of the chair. As he turned, shoving his arms into the sleeves, he caught sight of Johnny's boots. He stopped abruptly, coat half on. "Johnny," he said in an odd, strangled voice. " _Are you wearing cowboy boots?_ "

Johnny smiled proudly. "Yep. They're from when I was cast to play the Rawhide Kid. Remember that? I had them repainted. Aren't they awesome, dude?" They were now red, with yellow flames curling around the edges.

"You're really wearing cowboy boots," Peter said in an awed whisper. He bit down on his cheek hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep from laughing. 

Nope. Wasn't working. He could feel his eyes tearing up from the effort. 

Johnny stared at him, utterly perplexed. "What's wrong? You're turning purple, Peter. You look like you're going to have an aneurysm."

That did it. Peter couldn't hold back anymore. He erupted into helpless fits of uncontrollable laughter. He doubled over, pointing at the boots with one hand and clutching his aching sides with the other, laughing so hard tears were streaming down his face.

Johnny's hands curled into fists. "What the hell is wrong with cowboy boots? They're stylish!"

Peter just laughed harder. "Y-you keep telling yourself that, Storm," he managed to gasp out. "Oh my god, I am so glad I'm dating you! No one else I've dated has ever been this entertaining. _You wear cowboy boots._ " 

"They. Are. Stylish!" Johnny snapped. "And also, yeah, cause you've dated _so_ many people, Parker!" he added lamely.

"Not as many as you, but I've been around," he retorted between laughs.

"Well," Johnny spluttered in rage, "I'd also like to point out that of the two of us, only one regularly makes it onto best-dressed lists in magazines and stuff. And it sure as hell ain't you. Do you even _own_ an iron?"

"N-no," Peter gasped. "Okay. Okay. I'm stopping with the laughing now." 

He somehow collected himself enough to stop. His face actually ached, he realized, because of how hard he'd been laughing. 

"But wait. I need to record this moment for posterity." He grabbed his camera and began to take pictures of Johnny and his boots. Johnny glared at him. 

Peter silently thanked the cosmic rays that had given Johnny his powers that he couldn't set people on fire just by glaring at them. If he could, Peter would've been a pile of ashes on the carpet by now. 

He knelt in front of Johnny to snap close-ups of the very hilarious items of clothing. His eyes widened as he looked more closely at Johnny's boots. He stared up at his boyfriend, struck speechless for a moment. 

"Oh my god, Johnny. I just realized. Do your boots seriously have _flames_ on them? They _do!_ " he crowed, delighted. And he was off again.

Johnny had his arms crossed, and was watching, brow furrowed, deeply, unspeakably annoyed, while Peter laughed until he collapsed and was literally rolling on the floor. "I hope you're enjoying this, jerk."

"Oh," Peter wheezed, wiping away the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. "Believe me, I so am."

The muscles in Johnny's jaw tightened; his body tensed. He didn't like being laughed at like this. Cowboy boots were _not_ as funny as Peter thought. He'd seen people wear them!

He had to admit, though, the sight of Peter curled up on the floor behind his desk, and therefore out of sight of prying eyes--not that there were any, the office was empty--was not an unappealing one. 

Johnny's mouth quirked upwards. He'd thought of a fun new way to put an end to Peter's obnoxious laughter.

Time to mess with Peter. 

He knelt next to Peter, reaching out to grab his lapels and pull Peter's face close to his own. Peter hiccuped in surprise, eyes wide, all thought of laughter suddenly evaporated. "Let's see how much you laugh with my tongue down your throat," Johnny growled.

Peter's pupils visibly dilated with arousal. That was Johnny's sex voice. It was enough to make him hard all on its own, Peter knew. 

"Good," Johnny breathed. "But I've got some other things that'll help with that. Like my lips...my tongue...my teeth," he murmured as he moved his face slowly closer to Peter's.

Johnny's tongue flicked out as he ran it teasingly against Peter's lower lip. He nipped and sucked gently at the soft, warm skin he found there, before abruptly--so abruptly Peter couldn't help but gasp--covering Peter's mouth with his own. He invaded Peter's mouth with a hot, wet tongue, sliding it deliciously slowly against Peter's. By the time he slanted his mouth against Peter's just right, Peter had forgotten all about cowboy boots.

Johnny was an exceptionally good kisser--he'd had plenty of time to hone his technique. He knew just how to make Peter fall to pieces in moments.

He felt Peter's trembling fingers move up to cup the back of his head. He definitely wasn't laughing anymore. Johnny smirked into the kiss, before moving to bite at Peter's lower lip a bit viciously, hard enough to draw blood. Okay, so he was a bit pissed. And then Peter moaned. Johnny drew back, surprised, to find Peter staring back at him with a similarly shocked expression. 

"Oh _shit_ ," Peter said, horrified. 

Johnny grinned at Peter, delighted. Oh, this was _awesome_. Peter liked being bitten! 

Better yet, judging by the surprise and embarrassment Johnny could feel pouring off of Peter in waves, he hadn't known about it either.

This was the perfect way to embarrass Peter. Johnny couldn't have asked for a better--or better timed--discovery. Or a hotter one, really.

Ah, revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge.

"Like being bitten, do you?" Johnny whispered enticingly against Peter's mouth. "Wish I'd realized that last night," he added, voice an odd mixture of amusement and arousal. "I would have had fun with that."

"I do not!" Peter protested. "I mean, I never have before--"

He stopped abruptly as Johnny's tongue began to lick away the blood that was pooling around his swollen lower lip. "D-don't _do_ that!" Peter stammered.

Johnny chuckled, but stopped. "There's an easy way to find out if you do like being bitten, you know," Johnny said seductively. He was probably enjoying this way too much.

He pulled Peter into a heated kiss, until Peter was clinging helplessly to his shoulders. Peter's breath stuttered into a gasp as Johnny moved his open mouth over Peter's jaw and nibbled down Peter's neck, trying to find a place delicate enough to bite into. 

"Oh _god,_ Peter! Your neck tastes _amazing_ ," Johnny groaned against the skin of Peter's neck. 

Painfully turned on and desperate to hear Peter moan again, Johnny yanked Peter's collar aside, and sank his teeth gently into the delicate spot where Peter's neck met his shoulder. 

"Oh _god!_ " Peter cried out in pleasure as he instinctively arched his body into Johnny's. 

Encouraged, aroused, amused, Johnny bit down harder. Peter's mouth hung open, lost in pleasure. He leaned into the bite, hands scrabbling against the back of Johnny's shirt for a firmer grip.

If that all wasn't embarrassing enough, _he couldn't make himself stop moaning._ Hell, after a few moments, he even forgot to try. 

He was sure when it was over, he would find this whole thing mortifying, he thought hazily. But at the moment? It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

Damn.

Johnny's teeth released Peter's skin, and he licked at the bite soothingly for a few moments. When he finally moved away, he smiled smugly. "Well, whaddya know. Nerdy, innocent Peter Parker has a biting kink. And I can't even tell anyone, cause I'm the one doing the biting. What a shame."

Peter's eyes shot open as he scowled and blushed simultaneously. He didn't know whether to be outraged or embarrassed. So he was going with both. "I do not!" he roared.

"Evidence says otherwise, love."

Peter's jaw clenched. "That wasn't--that didn't mean anything."

"Uh huh," Johnny said, clearly not believing him. "I'm in your head, babe. I believe the exact thing you thought was, "This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to me." Which, dude, kinda sucked, cause it means I apparently really need to up my game in bed. Next time, though, there's gonna be more biting, I promise you that. Maybe I'll tie you up first," he mused, "and spend an hour biting into all of your soft, tender places. Until you're just screaming to be fucked."

Peter swallowed. "That, um, I don't--"

"You'd have to admit that you like being bitten first, of course, because why would I do that to someone who doesn't like it? I wouldn't, obviously. So admit it, or I won't."

Peter pursed his lips stubbornly. "No. I won't. I don't."

Johnny smiled. He loved a challenge. Especially the sexy kind. "You are in so much denial about your kinkiness, it's kinda hilarious. And maybe a bit sad. I think it's my duty as your boyfriend to help you come to terms with it. It can be my new special project for the next few weeks."

"Oh come on, Johnny, no! Leave it be."

"Not happening, Parker. Clearly, the universe has chosen me for this very important task. I take it very seriously."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Stop kidding around, Cowboy Boots."

"Sure thing, Biting Kink," Johnny smirked. "Just think about this: I can take these boots off. You're always gonna have a biting kink." He bent down slightly, mouth practically touching Peter's, staring intensely into Peter's brown eyes. "Do you want me to bite you again, Peter?"

"N-no," Peter stuttered, unconvincingly. 

Johnny leaned close to Peter's neck, as though he were going to bite him again. "You sure?" he breathed against Peter's neck. 

Peter's eyelids fluttered shut, as he parted his lips, waiting breathlessly for the feel of Johnny's teeth.

Johnny pulled back enough to see the look on Peter's face. Smiling victoriously, he said, "You do! I win!" 

"You ass!" he shouted as Johnny unceremoniously let go of his coat, got up, and marched towards the door. Peter tumbled to the ground, catching himself on his elbows. "That is not fair! That didn't mean anything!"

Johnny turned. "Yes, it did. You know, I wonder what other interesting kinks you're hiding. I'll have to figure it out some day. It'll be part of my new mission. Slash favorite hobby."

" _No_ , Johnny."

Johnny smirked. "Bet I can convince you to say yes."

"What do I get if you lose?"

Johnny shrugged. "Whatever you want. Really, you win either way."

"Fine. Deal."

Johnny's eyes lit up. "Awesome. Now c'mon, dude, I'm starved!" He shot out of the room towards the elevator.

Peter grumbled a bit as he fixed his coat and collar and bolted after his very annoying boyfriend.

***************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone's wondering, yes, Johnny's wearing [those](http://scans-daily.dreamwidth.org/4610379.html#cutid1) boots.


End file.
